


Morning

by alafaye



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/pseuds/alafaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One early morning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Fills the "sleeping on someone" square for my cotton candy bingo card.
> 
> Prompt was from [tumblr](http://a-lafaye.tumblr.com/post/33196313703/playbunny-hey-guys-i-command-you-all-right-now).

When John wakes up, there's a very sharp chill in the air. The sheets and blanket are still covering them both, chin to--ah. Toes. He wiggles his exposed toes and wonders why it feels colder than usual in the flat. He tries to blink the sand out of his eyes as he looks around the room. Light pours in from the window that is--yes, it's open. _Guess I need to find a new hiding place,_ he thinks with a fond smile.

It's become a bit of a game between him and Sherlock. It was infuriating, but in a fond way. John hides the cigarettes and Sherlock deduces the spot from John's actions and words. It sometimes takes a few hours or it may take a few days. This time, John was lucky--he'd managed to hide the cigarettes for a few weeks. (Though that likely had more to do with the fact that they'd had several thrilling cases that had distracted Sherlock from the nicotine withdrawal.)

Sherlock takes in a deep, sleepy breath, curling up tighter where he is asleep on John. His curls tickle John's chest and chin and Sherlock's breath causes John's skin to pimple from the chill. Sherlock's legs bump up against John's, reminding him sharply of exactly why he's cold as he shifts around Sherlock.

He lifts his own leg and wiggles his toes on Sherlock's foot. Sherlock grunts and presses back. From there, it's on. Trying to out do each other in a game of sleepy footsie that leaves them both breathless with giggles. Sherlock reaches up and runs a hand through John's mussed hair. He pulls and John meets him halfway in a soft kiss.

"Good morning," John sighs against Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock hums. John tangles his fingers in Sherlock's and pulls him close again for another kiss. And then another. John smirks and pulls the quilt up over their heads, then down to cover their feet. Sherlock makes a questioning sound, something like a hum and a groan. "John?"

John presses his hand against Sherlock's back until they are flushed together, legs tangled and chests pushing against one another. He nuzzles Sherlock's neck, kisses the corner of his lip and cheek and ear. Sherlock sighs, saying in one breath that John is impossible and this is stupid and that is he game. John kisses him again and reaches down, cupping Sherlock's arse for leverage. Push and pull and kisses and sweat and pulling on hair and legs straining together.

When they come, it's quiet and beautiful. Just like the morning.


End file.
